Good Asian Drivers

Hey ya’ll. Call me Mariachi Mel. Troubadour Songstress. Bodacious Busker. Whatever you want.

Here’s the skinny. Last Sunday Kit and I were invited to play at the Quincy 21st Annual August Moon Festival. As part of the contract, we got a free booth to set up our wares, so we thought we’d spend the greater part of the sunny afternoon eating shaved ice and watching festival goers pass by without so much as a glance at our table. Let’s face it. Nobody knows our music. Nobody wants our shirts. Plus, we can’t really compare to our neighbors, two guys from Wells Fargo, who were giving away free ice scrapers.

Maybe that wasn’t too fair. Three people actually bought our shirts, and two people bought our CDs. But what really made all of this truly worthwhile were a couple of “special moments”. Let’s revisit those moments.

Moment #1: It was like playing at the subway all over again.

I got to rock out. Hard. The best part was that no one - absolutely no one - was listening. Kit and I (and our friend Kristen who wasted her afternoon with us) practiced our entire repertoire, including a very energetic rendition of “Lesbian Love Song” in front of a crowd of little Asian children. No one cared. No one complained. No one listened. It was awesome.

Moment #2: Food makes our world go round.

It was a perfect day for mango and watermelon shaved ice. (And brightly colored fish-shaped nipple clamps, apparently.) Kit also bought me lo mein and stole me free popcorn and slices of moon cake.

Moment #3: White people.

It seems that white people were more amused by our name than Asian folks.

At least 3 people said, “Good Asian Drivers - how funny! This is great!”

At least 2 people said dead seriously, “Good Asian Drivers? There’s no such thing. They don’t exist.”

One white man asked me about the Olympics. Then he proceeded to randomly talk about his love of Bruce Lee movies. As if he believed that addressing this topic would somehow create a deeper connection between us.

Moment #4: Anxiously waiting to go on stage.

Here’s a picture of us, deep in thought, imagining what the audience reaction will be when we are on the stage. Will they understand what we are saying? Will they understand what in heaven Kit is doing? Will they be confused as to why this boy (me) with an abnormally large chest is screaming at them on the mic? And who thought that having the Good Asian Drivers follow a troupe of 5-year-olds doing traditional Chinese dances was a good idea?

We were accidentally introduced as comedians. Even after we corrected them and told them we were not. To their dismay, we weren’t that funny.

Moment #5: I accept my new trans identity.

There is no denying it. A lady came up to me, handed me a copy of the Epoch Times and said, “Young man, this is for you.”

Finally, the EXTRA EXTRA SPECIAL one.

Moment #6: When this white guy tried to hit on Kit, I suddenly discovered the truth.

This man came up to Kit and said, “Leng jai. Leng jai. You know what that means? That means ‘attractive boy’.” He then turned to me and said, “He is so attractive. You are lucky to have such an attractive boy with you. It really makes you look good, having such a good-looking boy with you.”

So, of course, I said with the straightest face, “I know. I mean, I am so unattractive that really, I need Kit to be near me or else I wouldn’t know what to do. People really would not even be able to look at me.”

The guy tried to explain that wasn’t what he meant. Of course we knew that wasn’t what he meant. But still. Worst. Pick-up. Line. Ever.

For the rest of the day it became our running joke. Kit is so beautiful that if he weren’t around me, folks would be blinded by my ugliness.

The festival was truly a hoot. We were clearly there for our own amusement more than anyone else’s. I wish every day was Awkward Asian August Moon Festival Day!

Your lovable yet hideous lesbian good asian driver, signing off.

Tour Quote of the Day:

“I’m getting my butt insured by Lloyds of London. And all ten of my fingers. Because I’m a guitarist with a perfect butt.” - Melissa